His Name
by The-Lady-Isis
Summary: Strange how one word can bring people together. For Arthur and Morgana, that word is Mordred.


**Disclaimer: _Merlin _and its characters are not my property, they belong to the BBC**

**His Name**

It is strange that one word can knit people together. One word can renew friendships, build bonds and erect bridges that will stand for a thousand years. For Arthur and Morgana, it was a name. After that name had been shared between them, everything – and nothing – changed. Where before they had only had half-flirtations and half-arguments, now they had something else to share.

Something that led to secret smiles, glances that turned into lock-and-hold looks. He found he didn't dread her company now, but looked forward to it. She was no longer like a portrait – fair to look at but not useful for much else. Now she was a real, material woman. A woman he could envisage touching, having her react to his touch. He longed to find out whether that porcelain skin was as warm as her hands could be.

She wondered at how he'd suddenly moved from being a bullish, brash boy into a capable, mature adult. A king-in-waiting. Rather than pitying those girls that he took to his bed, she found herself speculating...what would it be like? What would his taste be? His scent? What would callous-roughened fingers feel like upon her own smooth skin? Even talking to him was more pleasant; he'd all at once gotten intelligent and easy to talk to. They had a rapport now that made his company not an endurance, but a pleasure.

Strange that one name had made them both more.

---

Arthur rode back into the castle at daybreak, two days after he'd left with Mordred, trying not to feel nervous. There was no way for his father to know what he'd done. After all, hadn't he always been the dutiful, obedient son? Even as a knight, hadn't he always followed the king's orders? It was Morgana who'd gone against Uther, and if the plan had worked then she was above suspicion now.

_If _the plan had worked. He prayed, for her sake, that it had.

He'd taken every care to make it appear as though he'd gone hunting – well, in fact he _had _gone hunting, and it looked as though the gods were smiling on him, since he'd found, stalked, and killed a stag. Uther would like the antlers on his wall. He hoped. Maybe he might even be happy.

It turned out his father was not happy with him. At all. In any way. But then what else was new?

"Hunting?!" the king exclaimed. "You went hunting while the Druid boy escaped? _You went hunting _while this city was put in danger? _You went hunting_ while-"

"Father, please, I went hunting because I judged that the danger had passed. The boy was locked up; how could he have escaped?"

"That is something _you _should have been here to prevent!"

"How?" he shot back, for once having had enough.

"As captain of the guard, you should have been leading the searches!"

"My men are perfectly capable of searching the town without me!" Arthur protested. "And if you think that I would have willingly assisted in the capture and execution of an innocent child then you are sorely mistaken, Father!"

Without heeding Uther's orders to the contrary, Arthur stormed out of the great hall and to his chambers. Merlin was there, pacing up and down in front of the fire. When Arthur strode in, his expression was torn between nervousness and dismay. "How'd it go?" he asked quietly.

"The first thing went exactly as it was supposed to, the second was not fun," he answered. Merlin did not seem to relax at the news that the boy was safe, but the crease between his eyebrows deepened. "Now I'm tried and I'm hungry. Draw me a bath and find some food," he ordered. Merlin was a friend, but still a servant.

The dark-haired boy nodded and walked out quickly. Arthur flopped down in a chair and ran his hands over his fatigue-ravaged face. He'd not slept, too worried about Mordred and Morgana to the night before. Not that the boy should have mattered to him at all. He'd done it for Morgana's sake. But once they were alone in the forest, and the boy had been looking at him with those unnaturally blue eyes, he understood why Morgana wanted to protect him so much. There was something about him...he inspired an almost parental instinct in Arthur.

He didn't realise he'd fallen asleep until Merlin was shaking his shoulder. "Arthur. Your bath is ready."

He nodded and dismissed the servant, then stripped, divesting with relief the tunic that was stained with both sweat and animal blood, then the breeches and boots. It was with a sigh of relaxation that he eased himself into the tub of hot water before the fire. The warm liquid lapped at him, melting away the tension of the last few days and getting rid of the soreness in his muscles.

Merlin still wasn't back when, fifteen minutes later, he was clean and his stomach was still rumbling. There was a knock on the door, and Arthur, thinking it was Merlin with the food, got out of the bath. Forgoing the tunic, he dressed in a clean pair of trousers and crossed to the door as whoever it was knocked again.

"Hold on a moment!"

Finally getting there, he wrenched the door open. "Merlin, are you so incompetent that you're incapable of bringing a simple meal- Oooooph!"

The air was knocked out of him as Morgana flew into the room and into his arms. "Arthur! Are you alright, did it go to plan, is he safe?" she asked, questions pouring from her mouth while her pale green eyes frantically searched his face.

Arthur was too busy trying to catch his breath to answer, and Morgana clutched at his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin. "Arthur! Is he _safe_?"

He nodded, putting a hand on her shoulder. "He's safe. We met the Druids in the forest; they took him with them. He's safe."

She let her breath out in a half-sigh, half-sob, and collapsed against his chest, her arms moving up around his neck to hug him instead. "Thank God," she breathed.

Arthur returned the embrace, running his fingers lightly through her raven hair automatically. For a moment neither of them thought about their position, just too relieved both of them. It was exactly like knowing a beloved child was out of danger. They'd both felt that same protective urge about the boy, and neither of them knew why.

When he realised Morgana was trembling against him, Arthur pulled her closer and kissed her forehead. She stiffened slightly, but did not pull away. Still, it was dawning on her where she was and exactly _who _she was embracing. She'd never, ever been this close to Arthur before, so had no idea what to do now she was. Why had she hugged him? Why? It seemed like the right thing to do at the time, but now it was unseemly at best. He was shirtless, for Heaven's sake. But it _still _felt right. His skin was warm, and smooth despite the scars that criss-crossed it occasionally. She knew he was fit, but the muscles of his back felt hard and soft at the same time under her fingers. She moved them slightly, wanting to explore more but knowing she shouldn't. Still, her heart and breathing sped up, her breath hot against his chest.

Arthur almost groaned as he felt the light pattern of her breathing dancing across his skin. It felt like fire; breathless, hot and arousing. He'd always imagined that her flesh would be cold, like marble, but instead she was warm nestled next to his body. Not the frail doll he'd always imagined her to be, but a real human, a creature of emotion and sensation. When he felt her fingers rove over his skin, his thoughts turned in other, more primal, directions. The scent of heather and honeysuckle coming from her hair and tying his senses in intoxicating knots did not help matters.

"Morgana," he said, his voice hoarse with restraint.

It was feel of his voice resounding through his chest that alerted her to the fact he was speaking – she was still lost in the feeling of being in his embrace. She'd never felt so safe in her entire life. As much fear and resentment she now felt being around Uther, it was the exact opposite around his son. Now she saw it – the sooner Arthur became King, the better for all of Albion. Before she replied, she moved her face slightly, inhaling the musk and hot metal smell of him. Her movement meant that her lips brushed against the skin of his shoulder, and they both stopped, then pulled away at the same time, both hoping that the other wouldn't notice the reddening of their faces, and both avoiding the gaze of the other.

Just in time too, since the door creaked open again and Merlin came back in with a tray of food. "Brought your dinner."

Arthur cleared his throat. "Thanks, Merlin."

Merlin, unaware of what he'd just interrupted, nodded with a friendly smile at the young noblewoman and walked over to put the food on the table.

"I- I should probably go," Morgana stammered.

He nodded, still studiously not looking at her. She forced a smile at Merlin and pulled open the door, walking through it mentally cursing herself.

Arthur stood looking at it for a grand total of ten seconds before going after her, leaving Merlin looking quizzically after him. "Morgana!"

She turned with a dazzling smile. "Yes?"

He stopped in front of her, put his hand on her shoulder and tried not to think about how soft her skin was. "Mordred."

"What?" she asked, a frown creasing her pretty features. No, not pretty, _pretty _was too common a word for what she was. _Resplendent _was a better one. _Magnificent _was another.

He pulled himself together. "His name. Mordred."

She murmured the name to herself, her voice taking on a timbre he'd never heard before. Then she smiled, and looked up, her eyes now emeralds glowing with happiness. He nodded, and turned around to go back to his chambers.

Morgana stood looking at the door for a grand total of seven seconds before going after him, opening the door. Merlin looked up again, but she only had eyes for Arthur – forgetting the other boy was even in the room. Not pausing to think about it, she curled a hand around to the back of his neck and pulled him down a few inches, and kissed him.

It was short, but intense, and was only Morgana kissing him, since Arthur was too stunned to reciprocate the gesture. When she drew back however, his blue gaze was darkened with lust and desire of his own. With a shiver of delight, she realised that she wanted him at least as much as he wanted her. Still, conscious of the presence of Merlin, she didn't do anything else, though she hadn't withdrawn far. "Thank you, Arthur," she whispered. "Thank you so much."

Before either boy could move, she'd fled the chambers, torn between the urge to find Gwen so they could have giggle over it and to never, ever speak of it again.

Inside, Merlin gave a long, low whistle and looked at Arthur with his eyebrows raised. "Well..." he trailed off, unable to think of anything to say.

Arthur went a shade of red most tomatoes would have been proud of and quickly barked out an order. Merlin went, shaking his head. Left alone, a slow, bashful grin slowly spread itself over Arthur's face. Still smiling, he walked over to his window that overlooked the forest, and silently thanked Mordred for coming to Camelot.

Whatever else he'd done, whatever else he may do, the young boy had brought them together.

**A/N: Just a lil one - best episode so far I think. Review please!**


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